


A Spark's Desire

by Dellessa



Series: 2015 Birthday Project [28]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Dark, M/M, Mind Rape, Psychological Trauma, Soundwave being a creeper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-08 23:18:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3227237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dellessa/pseuds/Dellessa





	A Spark's Desire

__

“There are two tragedies in life. One is to lose your heart's desire. The other is to gain it.”  
― George Bernard Shaw

OoOoOoOo

_Bluestreak was in the temple when the bombing began. He nearly made it out before the building began to fall down around his audials. The walls fell in such a way that he was trapped, but not crushed. He could hear the screams of the other neophytes, and the priests. He could feel them dying around him. He could feel their pain as the bonds that linked them were severed one by one. He curled up into a ball, vents clamped shut as dust rolled through the wreckage. His frame felt like he was overheating, and maybe that would be for the best. He wanted to offline with them. He didn’t want to be the only one. When he was finally dug out of the wreckage he did not talk for sols, and then when he did it rushed out in a torrent. He couldn’t bear the silence, in it he would hear their screams as one by one his cadre died. He had not wanted to join them, but he had been the youngest in a noble family, and it was tradition. The youngest was always sacrificed to the temple. There was not a moment since Praxus fell that he did not with he had been a sacrifice in truth._

_Living hurt, but he was not given a choice in the matter._

_The mech that had dug him out, Prowl, seemed to make it his duty to make sure that he kept functioning. Bluestreak could tell that he cared, that he wanted to help, but he also knew that he was a broken creature. There was no getting better. Not from this._

_They would not let him go. So he pretended that everything was fine, and lost himself in their cause._

OoOoOoOo

Soundwave was a collector of secrets. It was in his very nature, spark and programming deep. He gathered information like he gathered Symbiotes, drawing them to him and keeping them close to his spark. The war was drawing to a close, and he was close to the prize he had craved for vorns.

Ravage had stumbled on the information almost by accident in one of his forays into the Autobots base. Soundwave let the files unfurl in his processor. He never would have thought that the little Praxian would have been the last remaining mechs from the temple in Praxus, but it was in his records. The medical records were telling enough. Bluestreak had never chosen to activate his interfacing protocols. He was still as untouched as the day he had been dragged from the rubble of the temple. He wanted the mech. He sent his symbiotes scurrying after him, watching him every klik they had to spare. They were following him when the Prime finally fell, and subdued him leaving him offlined and protected while the rest of the Decepticons raided the Ark taking prisoners.

OoOoOoOo

“Ravage: advice status.”

::Quarry is secure.:: 

Soundwave nodded minutely, and turned his attention back to Lord Megatron. “Who will you have then, Soundwave? You deserve a reward for such...loyalty. Perhaps the Prime’s third in command? It would be appropriate.” Megatron smirked, “He might be a handful, but I’m sure you are up for the task of taming him.” 

“Soundwave: would request Bluestreak, Lord Megatron.” 

“The little sniper? Fine, if that is your wish,” Megatron said. He raised a browplate, “Are you sure that is what you want?” 

“Soundwave: grateful. Lord Megatron generous,” he bowed low, his normally flat field flared with excitement.

OoOoOoOo

Soundwave made his way to the holding cells. The cassettes were already standing guard over his prize. They had been the first in the holding area, guarding the Prize until Lord Megatron had granted Soundwave permission to retrieve him.

Bluestreak was pressed against the far corner of the cell, curled up on the little berth in as small of a ball as was physically possible for him to fold his frame into. The stasis cuffs left him weak and limp. He barely put up a struggle as Soundwave scooped him up. 

“Where are you taking me?” Bluestreak’s voice crackled from stress. “Please let me go. Please. Please take me to my friend. Please.” 

“Bluestreak: going home.” 

“What does that even mean? Take me to my friends! Please!” 

“Bluestreak: Soundwave’s. Soundwave: hoped for this day for a very long time.” His arms tightened around the little mech, taking him towards the habsuites. For now they were in a complex of buildings that were interconnected. The officers homes were completed first, and the living quarters for the rest of the population were slowly coming together. Soundwave entered the lift, his symbiotes trailing close behind. 

“Is he okay?” Ratbat squeaked, and landed on Soundwave’s shoulder. The youngest of the symbiotes peered at Bluestreak with curiosity. “Is he going to give us siblings?” 

Bluestreak whimpered, hunching in on himself. “No. I can’t. I won’t. No!”

“Lord Megatron: insistent. Population: too low.” Soundwave said, and stopped at a door. he keyed in a passcode and waited for the door to slide open. “Bluestreak: will behave.” 

“Wh-what are you going to do to me? I-I want to go back to my cell."

“Bluestreak: will be fitted with a collar. Interface programming will be brought online. Bluestreak: Soundwave” 

Bluestreak’s vents stuttered, “No. No! NO! You can’t! You c-can’t make me b-break my vows.” 

“Bluestreak: never initiated. Bluestreak: Novitiate when Praxus fell. Bluestreak: never made a priest. Bluestreak: Soundwave’s. You will carry my sparklings.” 

“No!!!No-no-no-no! I-belong-to-Primus!”

"No," Soundwave fairly growled, his visor And mask snapped back. "You belong to me." His tentacles snaked out gripping the smaller mechanism. "Mine." He pushed open the medical port on the back of Bluestreak’s neck. Another tentacle unfurled and jacked into the port. Bluestreak’s Firewalls fell before Soundwave as if they did not exist at all. He was an invasive presence in Bluestreak’s processor, changing coding as he moved through the directories and trees. He activated programming that had been dormant since Bluestreak had come online. “You are mine. Only mine.” 

“No! No-no-no-no-” 

::Shhhh....I won’t hurt you,:: Soundwave pulled him close. ::I want to take care of you.:: The mech pressed their lips together exploring Bluestreak’s mouth in a way he had never craved. The little mech tried to push him away, but the tentacles held tight, and the mech continued his exploration. He pushed Bluestreak down onto the floor, pinning his wings to the ground with his weight. ::I’ve always wanted to take care of you. You’re such a precious little thing. So innocent.::

“Please don’t do this. Please-please-please! L-let me go.” A whimper escaped his vocalizer as he felt the presence inside him processor overwhelm him, leaving him dazed and speechless. Soundwave pawed at his panel, finding the manual release, and bearing him for the first time. 

Bluestreak offlined his optics, crying silently as the mech traced his seal, and punctured it neatly with one claw. Lubricant dripped out and onto the berth, pooling under Bluestreak's aft. Soundwave leaned over, lapping over the perforated seal, ripping it further. 

::Perfect. Beautiful. I've wanted you for so long,:: Soundwave murmured in Bluestreak’s processor, but the small mech never answered. He just stared blankly up at the ceiling, lost in his own processor. 

Soundwave felt him retreat. He would give him time. Eventually Bluestreak would come to accept the situation. He had no doubt.


End file.
